


'Til Dawn

by FireFaceOutlook



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Sanses | Nightmare's Gang (Undertale), Big Brother Sans (Undertale), Dusttale Sans (Undertale), Error Sans (Undertale) - Freeform, Gen, Horrortale Sans (Undertale), Protective Sans (Undertale), eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:33:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28566996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireFaceOutlook/pseuds/FireFaceOutlook
Summary: “sorry, pal,” he whispered, adjusting himself until he was slumped more comfortably (as comfortably as he could be) against the hard damp wall behind him.  He drew his knees up to better trap in as much heat as he could around the living parcel in his lap.  Hellion - as he’d taken to calling the tyke - opened his eyes, revealing the unique eye lights that’d first led Varmint to him, when he’d found him in the bottom of a dumpster while scavenging for food.  Their usual round shapes were wobbly, both from his distress and lack of fuel to his magic.  Varmint tsked softly, sympathetically, pressing his skull to Hellion’s.  “sorry, buddy.  can you hold on a little longer?  just until tomorrow?”
Relationships: Sans & Sans (Undertale)
Kudos: 10





	'Til Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N: I'm really proud of this one. I wanted to make a Nightmare's Gang story for _forever_ and I'm finally doing it! I really hope everyone enjoys it! And don't worry, things will get better.**

The dreary wet afternoon produced the perfect lullaby to nod off to. Or rather, it would’ve, had it not been pierced by a shrill cry. Varmint sighed as the noise set his broken cranium pounding in time to the raindrops.

“ _sh sh sh._ ” He tiredly patted the squirming bundle resting on his ribcage, and when that didn’t soothe the noise, he pried open his eye - or rather, the eye light within the paralyzed socket on the left side. The dim glow highlighted the small face resting against his stained shirt, scrunched up and tinted a pale purple. Similarly colored tears leaked from closed sockets, permagrin as downturned as their kind of bone-structure would allow.

“c’mon now, bro,” Varmint slurred, adjusting his jacket - which was acting as a blanket for the two - and the ragged scarf beneath the babybone’s head. “i know you’re hungry.” Varmint’s own stomach grumbled painfully, and he turned his head sharply as a thick, congealed liquid seeped between his teeth. His piteous wheezing joined the cacophony in the air as he struggled to spit out the tarry, corrupted magic. By the time he managed to clear his mouth, the cries had died down to quivering whimpers.

“sorry, pal,” he whispered, adjusting himself until he was slumped more comfortably (as comfortably as he could be) against the hard damp wall behind him. He drew his knees up to better trap in as much heat as he could around the living parvel in his lap. Hellion - as he’d taken to calling the tyke for a variety of reasons - opened his eyes, revealing the unique eye lights that’d first led Varmint to him, when he’d found him in the bottom of a dumpster while scavenging for food. Their usual round shapes were wobbly, both from his distress and lack of fuel to his magic. Varmint tsked softly, sympathetically, pressing his skull to Hellion’s. “sorry, buddy. can you hold on a little longer? just until tomorrow?”

It took a while longer for Varmint to lure the toddler back to sleep, and by then, the rain had stopped and the shadows of night were being vanquished by the sunlight concealed behind the clouds. Varmint’s skull throbbed and he desperately wanted to sleep, but he had to get to work soon. Which meant he had to drop Hellion off with his babysitter.

  


Varmint had met Error Lucida when he first found himself on the streets. The older skeleton had been running the streets for a few years at the time and even had a somewhat steady, if poor, source of income. He helped Varmint find his job and when Hellion fell into his lap, he became a reluctant confidant. When Varmint arrived to drop Hellion off, his jacket back on and the scarf tied in a loose bow around Hellion’s neck, he was forced to sit behind Error’s cardboard stand with him and a stale Cinnamon Bunny was shoved into his hand.

“but-” he tried protesting, but Error shot him a scathing glare that silenced him. He ducked his head and started nibbling on the treat, trying not to scarf it down in a single bite like every mote of dust that made up his bones screamed at him to do.

Hellion, now seated in Error’s lap, began rousing again, and the dark-boned skeleton produced a water bottle half-full of a mint green liquid. Sea Tea. Before Hellion could begin fussing, Error opened the bottle and started helping the babybones drink.

“what about you?” Varmint asked softly.

**“҉i’̴m ҉f̴i̴n̸e,”** Error said flippantly. **“yo̢u be̢tter ̧e͠at al͜l ̛o͞f tha͝t͞.̵ ̨ y̨ơu͠’҉r̡e s̢t͢ill̴ g̡r͏o̕w̢iņg̨.”̕**

Varmint scoffed but didn’t protest, finishing the first bite of food he’d gotten in over a week. It might not have been obvious to humans - or even _monsters_ , at first glance -, but Varmint was still a kid himself. He was nearly grown out of his stripes, but he still had the single one that indicated he was in the last stretch of his teenage years. His clothes were so faded and dirty that the stripe wasn’t really visible anymore. It was the only reason he got away with working and not being in school.

“i better go.” Error pulled the bottle away, sparking a soft protest from Hellion, which dissolved into a delighted noise as Varmint swung him into his arms. “love ya, bro,” he cooed, tapping their skulls together lightly. “be good for error, yeah?”

Error scoffed as his temporary charge was returned to him. **“̕y͡ea̕h ̡r͟i̵gh͏t.͢ ̛ ͏t͝he ͡l̸it̴t̸le h҉e͢ll͞io̢n ne̴veŗ beha҉v̵e͝s͢.”**

Varmint would never admit it to anyone outside their little triage, but in the wake of his unexpected graduation into parenthood, he’d floundered in every aspect of it, including naming the tyke. So when Error called him a _hellion_ the first time he watched after him, Varmint had pounced on the word and slapped it on the blank space next to _name_. (It was a little fuzzy, but Varmint had a vague memory of doing the same when Error referred to him as, well, a _varmint_. It was the kindest thing he’d been called since he started living on the streets, and he claimed it as his own because his true name was lost in the void in his memories.)

  


Varmint had brittle bones and starved magic, but he was large for his sub-genus of skeleton and _strong_. He worked in a warehouse, loading pallets of food and other stock into trucks. (And if he occasionally filched a treat or two to share with Hellion and Error, that was his secret to bear.) It was long and tedious work and left him exhausted by the end of each day, but the humans working alongside him were kinder than most he’d encountered. For some reason, skeleton monsters were specifically viewed in a bad light by humans, even in comparison to monsterkind in general; he remembered hearing once it was because humans had skeletons inside them and seeing skeletal monsters triggered some negative response in their brains. Varmint had experienced some pretty bad responses towards him, and even towards Hellion.

They’d been called freaks, vermin, demons and wretches; wastes of space, _better off as dust…_ Well, Varmint learned how to scare humans off pretty quickly after an incident when he’d had one of his _episodes_ \- choking on tarred magic, fighting the hunger pangs that begged him to do something drastic - and Hellion’s frightened screams had drawn the wrong attention. Fortunately, Hellion’s magic was young, even if it wasn’t properly fueled, and the couple of dusted ribs he’d received were in the process of slowly growing back. Varmint had recovered from his busted skull and cracked ribs, but there were pieces missing from his left ulna, making it difficult to maintain a firm hold on anything with that hand, and he still had a bit of a limp on the same side from the botched healing done on his tibia. Error had done his best, but their sub-genus weren’t the greatest at accessing healing magic on the best of days, much less when their magic fed directly off their soul more often than not when summoned.

“-llo?” Varmint flinched back when one of his co-workers waved a hand in front of his face, but they just offered a patient grin. Their name was Olive, and they were a rabbit monster - one of the few other monsters that worked in the warehouse. “Time to head out. You’ve been staring into space for the last half-hour.”

“sorry,” Varmint offered sheepishly.

“Hey, man, it’s okay. You look more tired than usual, though.” The duo went through the clocking out process together before heading for the exit.

“yeah, my baby bro was up late last night,” Varmint explained. “think the storm scared ‘im.”

Olive nodded sympathetically. “There’s supposed to be an even worse one tonight. Hopefully you both will be able to get more sleep.”

Varmint grimaced. “yeah. hopefully.” At the street, they would both be heading opposite directions, so he said his goodbyes and started the usual route back to Error. Maybe he could convince the erratic skeleton to let them stay with him for the night. The only reason they didn’t combine sleeping spaces permanently is because Error had a condition called “haphephobia” and some other mental conditions that made him afraid of accidentally hurting the brothers in his sleep. But perhaps news of the storm would change his mind.


End file.
